


white

by popsky



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domesticity, Fluffy cottonball I mean my feels, M/M, Semi-Drabble, family!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 18:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2357651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popsky/pseuds/popsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There went the fifty-fourth beep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	white

**Author's Note:**

> A semi-drabble I wrote quite a while ago, out of sheer feels. Crossposted at [tumblr](http://popskypops.tumblr.com/post/58199398593/knb-white), for the amazing [Canadino](archiveofourown.org/users/canadino/pseuds/canadino). I am still demanding Fujimaki to write a domestic omake, why.  
> 

-

It was quiet.

Shintarou thought of the past two weeks, when their roofs were blanketed with silver and their sidewalks glowed with red and green of Christmas trees. Everyday Daiki threw his bag in the living room after school, only to bolt outside again and start a basketball-sized snowball storm in the yard. Ryouta followed his every adventure, always being the expectable and easy to find; while small Tetsuya trotted just behind them – his presence (even _more_ transparent under the luminescent white) being, very unexpectedly, the only capable damage control. In-between Atsushi’s increasing needs of blanket and mealtime, the baby has been _hibernating;_ cheeks full of food like a squirrel.

During nights like these, when the exhausted kids slept soundly after just one kiss on the forehead, with his patients curled up on their beds eating warm soup, Shintarou was alone. It was refreshing at first – the quiet hours when he could read old books in front of the fireplace, reheating dinner every ten minutes and smoothing down linen creases. But then one night Ryouta mumbled sleepily about his friends’ father who came home in holidays, bringing presents and just stayed all day with his family – Tetsuya whispered, no, it’s okay, it’s okay, we understand. Father’s work is very important and very awesome, Daiki replied, so we can’t disturb him, and stuff, and yeah. Good night, Mom.

After the beeps of his microwave reached fifty-three in a single night, the old paper under Shintarou’s nose started to smell like Seijuuro’s neck after a particularly long business meeting. In his head there was already the an exact calculation of time: the hours he needed to fly to Europe, see Seijuurou for ten minutes, leave a warm meal on his desk, and go back to Japan for his children’s breakfast. The number was impossible – that business trip was planned a month in advance, anyway, and he should be prepared for this. He should be prepared for _everything,_ even, when Seijuurou slipped the ring to his finger and signed the house under their names. It was large and luxurious with everything both of their parents approved of – they built it from scratch, for that very reason – there was a touch of Seijuurou’s promises in every corner, since years ago and without him the large space made the words echo a little more hollowly in his head.

There went the 54th beep.

Shintarou sighed, and the microwave whirred a little before being turned off. No one including himself was going to appreciate being disturbed during work. Shintarou was probably going to regret it by the time he was done – it was just two days more anyway, for God’s sake – but his fingers were already reaching the phone.

His first three tries could not even be called tries, because he ended up pushing different buttons when his heart thumped just a little bit too strongly in his ribs. All of his patients sounded vey grateful to answer his calls, fortunately. _I feel much healthier, Midorima-sensei,_ they said all too cheerfully for two a.m., _I don’t even feel the chest pains anymore. We followed your advice, now my family is here for Christmas taking care of me and I have never felt better in my life._

The session therapy, of course, did not extend to healthy people outside of cardiovascular problems mentioned in the book – especially an ironic doctor waiting for his husband to come home. Atypical chest pains were hardly cardiogenic, and _this one_ did not even match any symptoms worth recalling. Shintarou told himself this every single time.

By the fourth time he got the number right, and while waiting for the dial tone his hand around the phone was clammy with cold sweat. It was ridiculous – they were _married,_ there was no need to act like high school students – but it was a sympathetic nervous response, not like anyone could help it. There was another beep.

“Seijuurou,” he mumbled quickly, thinking of an excuse, “I apologize for suddenly calling, but –“

“The number you are calling is currently unable to answer,” the operator’s voice was just as cheerful as his patient’s. “Please leave a message after the beep—“

He abruptly hung up, shivering a little. The cold was getting into him.

He tried dialing again, this time choosing to be direct before he could change his mind and escape yet again from another opportunity like this. He was a mature man. Seijuurou was, as well. Also, there was a likely chance Seijuurou would open the voice message at the time when he was not busy anymore. And it was not like that Shintarou wanted to hear him desperately right now, or anything.

A beep. “I miss you,” Shintarou breathed even before the message tone.

Well, so much for _that._

“I miss you, too, Shintarou,” suddenly Seijuurou agreed with him from the other line. Then, “Merry Christmas. Great timing – I have just arrived at the front of our door, by the way.”

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(Shintarou was still in a frozen shock for a full thirty seconds until Seijuurou dropped his voice an octave lower, _"open the door, Shintarou, it’s cold, I have been longing to touch y—"_

and the _burning face_ that ensued actually thawed himself out.)

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End file.
